Quicksilver
by atsucchi
Summary: Naruto can already see the paths splitting, multiplying before his eyes and it's all he can do to not sigh. Timetravel, he thinks glumly, really WAS a pain in the ass. Throwing his sensei and POLITICS, of all things, into the mix only serves to make his head throb. Timetravel AU, KakaNaru.
1. foxfire

**Author's note: **After this author's note, there should only be additional commentary at the end of each chapter and not before it - unless there's something that requires clarification. Reviews and polite criticism encouraged and beta needed. (And despite the first sentence and a variety of references later on, there _will be __**no**__ major character death _in this fanfiction_. _Thank you for taking the time to read.)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Naruto or any of it's characters, nor do I gain any sort of monetary profit from this work. (First fanfiction, first Naruto work. Feel free to point out any discrepancies or errors but **please do not complain about pairings** as they are set in stone. There are hints and mentions of NaruSaku but the end game pairing is KakaNaru. Please keep this in mind.)

* * *

**_chapter one: foxfire_**

_quicksilver_

Naruto is twenty nine and dying; a burgeoning rot in his lungs.

Every single one of his muscles scream in protest as he crouches down to catch his breath, arms slung haphazardly over the bandaged curve of his knees.

The tokujō releases a thoroughly put-upon sigh when his back twinges reproachfully at his actions - and it's with a muted groan that the redhead makes to rise, his feet carefully digging into the soft soil that makes up the shelter's floor.

Naruto grimaces, rubbing at his aching bones, before getting up in a languid motion and staggering to the only medical cot that presides in the room.

The starched, bleached fabric that makes up the roughshod tent rustles with the barest of breezes, stirring fretfully when someone so much as passes it.

It's not particularly difficult to discern how some of the patches of canvas are stained with the remnants of blood, sweat, and tears, having accumulated over the years of war and raging chaos.

Despite various attempts, the stains remain, proving to be a grim reminder of each and everyone's mortality.

Regardless of all appearances, the shelter provides an almost clinical, detached scent, one which makes the man wrinkle his nose in faint, hidden distaste. Due to a severe shortage of functioning medical-nin, the Shinobi Army had been forced to fall back upon the more traditional ways of healing; thus the acrid, chemical odor of the antiseptics. The strain of caring for so many injured units had gotten to what few capable shinobi they had, forcing Tsunade and Sakura to take up the slack with a terrible sort of vengeance.

_The war,_ Naruto muses darkly,_ was certainly taking it's toll._

Although it was their job to adapt accordingly, many of their comrades had been unable to fight on such few hours of sleep and often taxed themselves beyond their limits.

(It was times like these, where Naruto was left to contemplate the past, that he so sorely missed Ichiraku Ramen and the miniscule family that owned it. It was painful to recall and, as it were, never failed to lead to an even darker path.

The Siege of Konoha had wiped out a third of the Leaf's army and decimated the entire civilian population, demoralizing many of the Konohagakure Shinobi. It had taken Shikaku to yell at them before they were able to scrounge up their _Will of Fire _and return to the fight, twice as vengeful, thrice as vicious.)

Lost in his reminiscing, Naruto doesn't notice when a bright shock of pink hair ducks into the tent; clipboard tucked neatly beneath her right arm.

Sakura squints at the tokujō's form and huffs a little, shuffling closer as the tent gives a quaint little flap.

"Naruto," she urges firmly. "Come back to me, please."

* * *

At his teammate's placid voice, the redhead snaps back to the present, furiously hauling back the shadows that had begun to lurk within his eyes, before offering the medic-nin a fairly disgruntled look.

Upon seeing her features, as well as being her teammate for over a decade, it doesn't take much for him to tell that she's worried. The jōnin's gut clenches uncomfortably and it isn't long before he manages to twist his lips into a faint smile, tan hand seeking out her pale, bandaged ones.

(Privately, Sakura is a little heartbroken to see that it's no longer quite as vibrant and carefree as it once was but accepts the gesture with another quiet, understanding look. Her hands squeeze his own, comforting and steel-like.)

"Sakura-hime," Naruto greets, squirming against the hospital cot. The redhead pulls her hand upwards and towards his lips, dropping a chaste kiss along her knuckles, as per their customary greeting. He promptly relishes in the soft puff of laughter that spills past her chapped lips and hums at the warmth blooming in his gut.

"So?" he prompts apropos of nothing. "We startin' that examination, _Doctor Haruno_?"

The former jinchūriki waggles his eyebrows suggestively, laughing when the flushed medic nin thwaps him on the head.

"Alright, alright, you_ baka_," the woman grouses, her fond expression transitioning into something more professional. Sakura twists her lips, allowing the last vestiges of amusement to fade from her face before she pushes up the shinobi's mesh shirt; smoothing her hands against the expanse of olive-toned skin.

It takes a few seconds to call the proper medical jutsu to the forefront of her mind but before long, her fingers drag along his torso, probing carefully. The Head Medic gives a few _hum's_ and _ah's_ before withdrawing, the soft green glow dimming before it dies out entirely, licks of chakra lingering behind.

"The Kyuubi-" Sakura pauses, shooting Naruto an almost apologetic look before promptly continuing, voice holding a grave edge, "-Kurama's chakra has not integrated with your coils as smoothly as we had predicted. Instead, they've begun to deteriorate. Give it ten years or so and you'll have lost the ability to mold chakra. Half of that time, you'll start to experience debilitating pains in your abdominal region. You're already possessing symptoms akin to tuberculosis due to the corrosive chakra steadily healing and eating away at your lungs."

She pauses, pushing her heels against her eyes; spots of color dancing across her inner lids like errant leaves before she utters a faint sigh - a harsh, grieving sound that makes Naruto's heart twist painfully.

"There's no cure. I'm … sorry, Naruto. The damage is irreversible - and likely fatal after the initial degradation of your chakra coils are complete. It's too minute for any of us to fix - even Tsunade-sama cannot do it."

Naruto only graces her with a knowing smile, trembling hands curling into the black fabric clinging to his legs. "When a man's clock starts ticking-," he begins, awfully calm and terribly level-headed, "-you know. I had already determined the cause of my sudden bout of sickness but I needed to confirm it with, well - the best medic-nin we have, eh Sakura-hime?"

The ex-Sacrifice's shoulders roll with a smooth, lazy motion that's painfully reminiscent of their Sensei.

The action evokes a series of shuddering clicks that makes Sakura scowl and glare.

"Don't worry," he soothes, nimbly bouncing to his feet. The cot squeaks at the sudden absence of weight and he swiftly steadies it.

The man gnaws at the inside of his cheek before curling long fingers over the sloping curve of the other shinobi's shoulder. "It's enough time-"

Sakura scoffs, scornful and infuriated as she cuts him off with a sharp sound that wells at the back of her throat. "_Enough time?_ Naruto, this is _your life_! And what about your dream? You told me you'd never give up; you _promised_! You're not Hokage yet, you _baka_!"

The redhead levels a measuring look against his teammate, licking his lips uneasily even as they begin to curl at the initial response. Naruto withdraws his hand and bites back a sigh, rubbing his neck absently.

Noting his unhappy expression, the kunoichi subsides with a mutinous gleam in her eye, although she takes care to avert her gaze with a low, guttural growl.

"With this war?" He asks in return. The once-boy was surprisingly soft spoken.

(_Naruto, _Sakura notes, _has become quiet as of late. Firm, steely, but less outwardly vibrant. It's still there if you look for it but otherwise …._

She's torn from her thoughts when the tokujō continues.)

"Tell me, Hime-chan - what is there to protect? Our homeland is _gone, _our friends and sensei dead."

Naruto shakes his head, crimson locks fluttering with the sharp motion. His features twist as he hauls himself up into a seated position, legs crossing lazily.

The jōnin rakes a scarred hand through his garnet tresses, frustrated, as he tries to make his lover understand.

"I won't ascend to a position of power only to watch my people burn beneath Madara's wrath, Hime-chan. 'sides, baa-chan is doing _fine_."

His teammate rears back in surprise at this, spring-green eyes virulent and simmering with rage. "Since when were you a _liar_?" She spits, skittering away, hurt.

"This isn't the Naruto I know! This isn't who _you _are, Naruto!" Sakura raises a fist, the appendage looming threateningly as she hurls one, last cutting barb. "How _dare _you give up when our friends have sacrificed so much for you?"

Jaw clenched, Naruto observes her with a carefully blank expression. His teeth grind as he listens to his teammate rage and rant, and his hands hurry to find something to do; picking at the bandages wrapped around his middle.

His lover's tirade is cut short by a ninja bustling into the tent with little to no regard to the situation.

Naruto can't help but feel a hot splash of amusement flare to life within his chest when the shinobi gives Sakura a wary look; the man's gaze finding the blonde commander with a curt, flat expression.

"Uzumaki-dono, you've been requested on the battlefront. Get your equipment and we'll depart as soon as possible - the Second Company is ready to move when you are."

The foreign shinobi pauses, huffs a little, and halts Sakura with a swift, short movement. His hand is waggling in a 'no' sign repeatedly even as he shakes his head.

"I apologize, Haruno-san, but Hokage-sama requests that you stay here. The Fourth Company is coming in with a severely injured party."

And then the nin takes his leave, canting his head into a polite nod and letting the canvas flap in his wake. _How dramatic,_ they both think.

However, before Naruto can so much as take a step forward, his teammate immediately corners him, voice brittle and angry. "Come back," she snarls, punching his shoulder. "Come back, or I'll find you and kill you myself, you- you idiot!"

He feels the beginning of a smile on his lips and puffs out a laugh, scratching at his cheek, before dipping down to place a sweet kiss upon her lips.

"Tie my hair for me, won't you?" He requests, playful. "I can never do quite as well as you do, Hime-chan."

The medic nin gives a faint harrumph, rolling her eyes (_shining with a sheen of concern_), before beckoning the taller ninja over. He complies with a chuckle, ambling over and offering her a simple, rolled up piece of ebon cloth from which she plucks from his hands.

She's silent as she works, their one-sided exchange forgotten in the wake of a far more ominous summons.

Sakura's fingers, covered in callouses and wrapped tightly with gauze, sift through the silken strands; scarlet and slightly knotted. Her lips purse idly as she works to untangle the kinks with an uncanny expertise.

_It's no wonder Hime-chan can untie ropes without jutsu as well as she can, _the redhead muses wryly. _She has so much practice on my _hair _that she's practically a professional._

The pink-haired kunoichi cards the lengthy locks of garnet up, touch firm, before tying off the ponytail that sorely reminds her of Ino.

It leaves a touch of finality in the air, one she seems to tense under; hand lingering in the scarlet tresses.

"Return to me," she demands again, unyielding, and Naruto acquiesces with a barely-there nod.

"Of course," is all he says. He sweeps out of the tent, smoothing down his mesh shirt and absently straightens out his vest. The goodbye seems to drain what good cheer he has left, and his features take on an uncharacteristic scowl.

* * *

"Finally," the squadron leader drawls. "Thought you and lil' missy were gettin' a little heated in your good bye."

Naruto eyeballs the man before turning away with a snort of derision. "Sakura-hime would have your balls in the hand of her fist if she ever heard that," he tosses out. "She's not a damsel in distress, and nor is she unprofessional. She's my equal, Masaki-san. You'd do well to remember that."

The shinobi shrugs with a careless rise-and-fall of the shoulders and offers a short apology - and then with a handful of signals, the company takes off into the trees, a series of dark blurs.

* * *

They're just three clicks from the unit requesting back up when they're hit- and hit _hard_.

A barrage of jutsus tear through the rearguard like they're wet tissue paper, a shower of blood and gore blanketing the forefront of the division. It startles the rest into action, the shinobi readying their respective weapons.

It only takes the former jinchrūki a few seconds to appraise the situation before he's snarling out a harsh, "Scatter!"

Without even a parting glance at the other shinobi, the company spreads out, working furiously to take their opponents down.

Naruto lands on the balls of his feet and beats a hasty retreat, skimming over the area that now teems with various, grotesque forms. They crawl across the trees, ghastly and horrifying; amalgamations of their dead comrades.

Nausea crests his stomach, forming a torrential wave.

_Who would do such a thing? _He wonders, sick. _Even __**Orochimaru's**__ people weren't this horrid._

He has no time to contemplate the matter, he realizes a touch regretfully. Naruto is quickly forced to leap to another tree, a three-armed creature dropping to his previous spot.

It weeps even as it holds a kunai between it's teeth and Naruto feels tears sting his eyes.

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I wish I could help you._

_I can only put you out of your misery._

The jōnin swallows, throat clicking, and easily puts the (man? woman?) down with a well-aimed senbon. It- she - he - gurgles once, twice, then promptly dissipates into a cloud of noxious gas.

It only takes one inhale before Naruto is staggering away, coughing until red paints the palm of his hand.

_Fuck-_ _the others!_

"Don't breathe it in!" He yells, wheeling around.

The shinobi nearly smacks into the trunk of the tree as he totters on one side of the thick branches, desperately trying to regain his balance.

"They dissipate! Pull up your masks!"

Naruto only has time to look around wildly when a low moan reaches his ears before fire engulfs him, eating away at his clothes and searing -_pain__**pain**__pain it hurts it hurts it hurts - _into the flesh of his back.

And then he's falling, being squeezed breathless, ribs cracking under pressure- _where am I going? Nononono, I have to- I have to come back-_

- everything turns void and the former jinchrūki _screams._

* * *

**End notes: **This is an canon divergent AU where the Shinobi Army have been at war for a little over twelve years. Only a handful of Leaf nins exist at this point in time due to Madara and the Ten-Tails decimating the village.

Naruto's undergone some sort of mutual fusion with the Nine-Tails, thus gaining his red hair. As explained, there's some setbacks to such a procedure and Naruto is paying for it dearly - weakened and no longer _quite_ as godly, the creatures created by Madara (for it can only be him) were able to overtake his unit and he himself. The fire technique that's implied is what's sending him to the past. We'll probably see a more detailed explanation later on! For now, I'll be working on the second chapter. Updates will be sporadic at best but I'll try to upload a chapter whenever I can, especially since school is coming up.

In addition, I apologize if my writing is not up to par or too verbose. It's been a couple of months since I've written - and a couple of _years_ since I've written anything this long. Thanks for reading - reviews are encouraged!

- halefyre


	2. regeneration

chapter two: _regeneration_

quicksilver

When he wakes, there's dirt in his mouth and the phantom touch of fire caressing his skin. Naruto chokes out a wheezing cough, long digits curling protectively over his bruised collarbone as he shifts minutely against a cluster of crisp, yellowing leaves.

He takes a moment to catalog his injuries even whilst his mind takes a moment to awaken from it's sluggish gesture and realizes his wounds consist of his broken ribs and aching pains. Then he realizes he can't feel anything from his back - at least, not _yet_.

_Third degree burns probably, _he speculates, troubled_. Scarring likely to be imminent._

A flash of wry irony blooms at this thought, swiftly spreading across his tongue like citrus leaves and jasmine.

_How ironic is it that Kurama once presided over fire - could mold it however he pleased - but _I _still burn like paper consumed by a wandering flame._

The redhead fumbles, weakly tugging at the twigs snared in his hair, but falters once the stench of burned flesh breaches his nose. Even as he turns his head to retch soundlessly, Naruto is careful to not expel any body fluids.

He doesn't know if his previous adversaries are still sticking around; doesn't especially care, honestly, but it's instinct to not leave anything behind.

DNA was precious and he wasn't chancing it.

Naruto clicks his tongue; thinks that he just needs to heal - quicker, better, stronger.

As far as he was aware, his unit still needed him and he wasn't going to fail them after twelve years of ruthless war.

_(The former jinchrūki had learned rather quickly that arguing with their opponents had not swayed their minds and wasn't_ that_ disappointing?_

_Everyone thought he was light-hearted and naïve - but honestly. Who was he kidding? All anyone had to do to secure these hotshots' loyalty was spout off some encouraging speech and beat them up._

_And well. It's not like he hadn't meant any of it because_ that_ was certainly not the case._

_Naruto was genuine when speaking the words that came out of his mouth (more often than not anyways; he was a shinobi) and these cases had not been any different. Especially when he had reached out to Nagato._

_Saying anything with something other than whole-hearted sincerity would've felt (and been) disrespectful. He was one of Raiya's students - and an Uzumaki to the boot._

_And yes. It hadn't escaped his notice that Nagato's hair was fairly reminiscent of the Bloody Habenaro; a fact that made him somber as he recalled the fleeting image of his mother -_

_Because of lost opportunities and strayed paths._

_Because Naruto had had blood family alive after all. (More, he would come to learn, than he had ever been aware of.)_

_Because he had found someone, realized he wasn't the last Uzumaki, the last being to possess Uzushio blood -_

_only to lose them in a matter of hours; minutes.)_

After another moment of ruminating over past events, the redhead chewed his lip anxiously and peeked around.

His face was still pressed against the leaves and soil even as his eyes flickered about in order to observe his surroundings.

Naruto wrinkled his nose and assessed his injuries once more, tentatively attempting to rise.

His wounds might've been life-threatening on someone else - and knowing him, they were life-threatening but the fact of the matter was that the tokubetsu jōnin wasn't just _anyone_, though _that_, he mused bitterly, was something he was keenly aware of.

The shinobi promptly began to stretch, arms raising above his head, before grimacing when the knitting flesh started to itch and give out a reprimanding shock of pain in response.

_"Ah!_ I get it, already. Stop, stop!"

Rolling his shoulder, Naruto huffed a growl and slowly began peeling away the smoldering mesh that had melted into the surface of his flesh.

It burned and hurt in a way he was intimately familiar with, but he didn't stop even when his hands trembled in response to the agony coursing up and down his torso.

However, even as he did so, he could feel the skin and muscle that had been burned away starting to regenerate and grow.

The burns would be ropey, probably, and the thought made him grumble and sigh because even if he did happen to look more intimidating, it wasn't exactly his life goal to pursue _Ibiki Morino's_ physical appearance.)

Finally plucking the last vestiges of his jōnin vest and the shirt beneath it from from his torso, Naruto grinned in relief as he felt a flutter of cloth whisper across his shoulders.

It meant that the tie was still holding up the curtain of vermilion tresses and with a quiet sound, he reached up to rub his thumb along the scratched and notched plate of metal that showcased a tiny symbol of Konohagakure. It was stitched into the center of the lengthy strip of cloth and only gave a dull, throbbing gleam when the sunlight hit it.

_Good_, he thought. _It's still here._

And then he turned around and stopped.

Because no matter how he viewed it, there were no genjutsus, no illusions, no smoke and mirrors.

Because no matter how he could've tried to explain it, Uzushio was standing in its crumbling glory when it should've been crushed to fine smithereens not three years ago.

The red and gold paints still clung to the stone, faded and speckled with congealed brown.

And suddenly, it hits him that he isn't home.

He isn't in a place where Sakura_-hime_ would be waiting for him - where people needed his presence to win a hopeless war that's gone on for nearly half his life.

_So,_ he wonders, faint and queasy and absolutely terrified, _where exactly am I?_

* * *

**End notes:** This chapter is dedicated to _ElectraSev5n_ , Quicksilver's first reviewer. Thank you for leaving such kind words, they were a huge motivation.

In addition to the following notes, my username has changed from hale-fyre to atsucchi and my tumblrs are under the same monikers.

I am very sorry for the delay but as forewarned, updates will be sporadic at best. I would love to be able to write a chapter once a week but the reality is that I don't have the time or energy for it - especially with so many advanced placement courses. I appreciate your understanding and can assure you that I have no plans of abandoning this story.

Thank you again!

- atsucchi


End file.
